


don't worry, you will

by scarletfish



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Juno Steel and the Series of Unfortunate Life Events, M/M, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, Tumblr Prompt, dishwasher therapy, let's throw fake married into the mix bc apparently that's happening now, omg they were roommates, quarantine au, this turned into a Whole Thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24016468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletfish/pseuds/scarletfish
Summary: Two weeks ago, Juno was engaged. Now he's quarantined with a complete stranger who can't operate a microwave and has no sense of personal space.And they were quarantined (oh my god, they were quarantined!)
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko/Vespa, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 47
Kudos: 171





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -Thanks @space-city-traffic for the prompt, and @pipis-pods for the suggestion that Juno and Vespa communicate and become friends (I promise there's more Vespa/the rest of the crime fam in the next chapter!) 
> 
> -Trigger warnings: Canon-typical levels of alcohol abuse, depression. 
> 
> -This podcast has eaten my life so if you want to yell about it with me on tumblr message me @sav-en-garde.  
> 

**Chapter 1**

_Diamond paid you_ **_$1520_ ** _. Your Venmo balance is now_ **_$1520_ ** _._

Fiancee. Rent. They’re the first and last things on Juno’s mind. He realizes he’s been sitting in the parking garage for over ten minutes, idling and staring at his cracked phone screen. He turns the car off.

His car with a long crack in the windshield. _Everything is goddamn broken._ He gets out of the car, pauses. Gets back in the car. 

This calls for a detour. 

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Juno is ready to take his newly acquired liquor to his room so he can introduce it to his newly acquired headache, but he has one more stop to make.

Hyperion Apartment Complex twists eight stories high, the tacky grey brick facade nearly reflective at night. Semi-nice rooms in a mostly bad part of town. Hyperion city makes cheap look beautiful, the way fast-food commercials brush up plastic meat with shoe polish and glue. Diamond had always hated it.

Juno shoulders into the leasing office with two large grocery bags. The front desk is empty, and everything else is faded and peeling. He rings the bell and sits on a faded, peely chair to wait. _Might as well put the whisky to good use._

Taking a swig, he looks out the floor-length windows to the filmy outdoor pool. (Rita swears security fished a body out of it a couple years ago. Juno told her she needs to stop watching so much _Law and Order_.) For the hundredth time, he wonders if this is even worth it. She's going to ask questions, and he doesn't know how to answer them. Doesn't know the answers himself.

He starts poking holes in the plastic grocery bags with his thumbnail. Takes another swig. Then a couple more-

“Boss!” Rita bobs into view with her tablet in hand, Cheeto dust on her bright purple jacket.

Since the police force scandal, Juno runs a small PI business from a shitty downtown office, where he met Rita. To this day, Juno’s not sure how or when she wormed her way into a position he wasn't even offering. He’s also not sure when she sleeps... Part-time leasing office representative is something like her third job. She also does something with computers, maybe? 

“Rita,” _swig,_ “I need a favor.” The shorter woman is already talking, anticipating their usual back and forth.

“And I know I ain’t supposed to call you that here, but you _are_ my boss, and I don’t think my other bosses- wait, huh?” Confused by the change in script, Rita eyes the half-empty bottle of whisky in Juno’s hand. Her eyes jump to the clock. 

“Mista Steel, are you feelin' okay?” One pro of hiring Rita: she’s very perceptive. Con of hiring Rita: _too_ perceptive. 

“Fine. I need you to check someone out for me.” Rita’s eyes immediately light up. 

“Oooooh, boss, another case already? Is it gonna be as exciting as the one with Mista Prince Julian? Are we gonna get to travel? I’ve always wanted to go somewhere exotic, like Maine, or _Florida_ -” Juno cuts her off before she can get going.

“Julian was a dramatic politician with a cheating husband who ended up dead, Rita. Not everything is a Netflix rom-com.” 

The bitterness in his tone might not have been there a week ago, but the smaller woman doesn't notice. She's sunk into her desk chair, sighing dreamily as she swivels back and forth. _Time to bring out the big guns_.

Juno reaches into his shopping bag and pulls out the chips, dangling them in front of Rita’s heart eyes. She snatches. He raises them _just_ out of reach.

“Focus. It’s not a case. There’s this guy I need you to find. I’ve got name and place of employment. Can you do it or not?” 

Rita pouts. “But boss,” she whines, “you don’t even need me for that, you can just Google his name like I showed you. I thought we were gonna do something _exciting_.” Juno pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, well, Google isn’t gonna cut it this time, because,” _I wasn’t really paying attention when you showed me that_ , “because, he’s highly secretive. And, that’s _potential_ name. And potential place of employment, my source isn’t very,” he almost chokes on this last word, “ _reliable_.” 

The gears start turning. “Secretive… hang on Boss, is this another high-profiler? Have you been holding out on me?” She lowers her voice (but not much). “Boss, this is about a case, right? You just can’t tell me because _they might have tapped the phones_!?” 

_What… who does she think_ they _are?_ Juno drops his head into his hands to rub his temples. When he doesn't immediately contradict her, Rita continues in her stage whisper.

“Don’t worry Boss, Rita’s got your back! I’ll have this secretive criminal tracked down before they even know we’re on their case!”

“It’s not a case.” 

“I’ll be as quiet as… as those monsters in _The Quiet Place_! Except they ain’t so quiet when they’re attacking people, but _neither are we_ when we’ve got the bad guys cornered and we’re ready to _take them out_ -” 

Besides the recent political debacle with Julian and his missing husband (that one was a high-paying scrap tossed Juno’s way by an old friend), most of the cases he’s hired for are affair investigations and insurance fraud. 

He’s certain neither he nor Rita have “taken anyone out” _ever_ ... Unless you count that time he tried to teach Rita to drive stick shift. Or the Hot Tub Debacle. But those were _accidents_. 

Juno slings the bag of snacks onto her desk. “Just find out whatever you can about the guy, okay?” 

“Fresh shrimp flavored?” Rita squeals, “Aw, you’re the best Mista Steel!” She digs into the large bag and talks around a mouthful of orange crumbs while Juno tries not to vomit in his mouth. 

“Shipping ish ‘aking fore’er wi’ this crathy thirus thing goin’ gon,” she swallows, “speaking of, have you been watching the news Boss?” 

“Every morning with my sunrise yoga. Listen Rita, I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?” Juno’s limbs are… heavy, suddenly. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s because he hasn’t slept well in that last, oh, ten years... or maybe it’s the weight of that single text, sitting in his phone for almost a week now. Looking at Rita, he thinks of telling her everything. Just spilling his guts right onto the scuffed linoleum floor. 

The engagement. The text. The Craigslist ad. The man he’s supposed to be meeting tomorrow.

Rita’s still chattering on, and her voice cuts through the haze. “-but you never told me the name of Mistah Criminal?” She happily shoves another handful of chips in her mouth. “Oooo, or is it so secret you need to write it down on a piece of paper and then I can read it and _eat_ the paper-”

“Peter Ransom. Might’ve done a job for Vallas Vicky’s hotel recently.” That’s all he knows. “And he’s _not_ a criminal Rita, he’s just a normal guy.”

Rita’s dialogue wanders around to closing borders and something about Italy, but Juno’s already moving towards the door (it shuts a bit harder than he intended). He doesn't know why he's so upset with Rita when all she's done is try to cheer him up. He makes his way back to the parking garage elevator. It smells like cotton candy vape and something vaguely mossy. A group of ragged kids is flying down the incline around the corner on penny boards.

Juno takes another swig of whiskey in front of the chrome doors and jams the elevator button about twenty times before he remembers.

 _Of course the fucking elevator is down for the weekend_.

He wants to sit at the bottom of the stairwell and drink himself into oblivion. He want to wallow in this feeling for a moment, the feeling of the universe kicking him while he’s down. 

Instead, he drags himself to the stairwell, drudges down the second floor hall, and practically collapses through the door. 

An eager chittering greets him from the cage in the living room. “Hey, Smallfry.”

Diamond wouldn’t go near the ball of fluff (“It’s so _dirty_ Juno,”) so when they moved in together eight months ago, the rabbit was a launching point for multiple arguments. Juno drops his grocery bag of Timothy hay and carrots by the cage, not bothering to stash it in the kitchen.

He pointedly doesn’t look in the smaller second bedroom that Diamond claimed as an office space. He doesn’t look at their shared bed either, because the sight of the rumpled sheets will just wrap around his ribcage and squeeze and squeeze until he can’t breathe again and everything is spinning-

Juno takes another swig and collapses on the couch. And then, because he wants to hate himself a bit, he thumbs through his phone to his fiancee’s most recent text. No matter how often Juno reads it, it never changes.

**3:56AM: Diamond**

_Juno. I’ll forward my part of two month’s rent before the month is over. That should be long enough for you to find a temporary roommate, at least until the lease expires at the end of the year. Do what you’d like with the furniture._

Ex-fiancee. 

* * *

Juno bolts upright, disoriented and confused. The decorative couch pillows left lines on his cheek, and he’s nursing the beginning of a monster headache. He gropes around for his phone. _7PM_. It’s only been a few hours. 

It feels like days. Months. Years. 

Juno shivers. He left the door to the porch open, and a cool fall breeze is raising goosebumps on his arm. A nearby screen door slams, and heavy boots tread the balcony next door. “Hey piss-bucket, you been day drinking again?”

The green-haired nuisance next door is only loud when she chooses to be, so Juno knows she's hoping to stir him out for a cigarette or two. He wonders briefly when Buddy will be back. Vespa only gets this chatty when her partner is gone for long periods of time on work trips.

He toys with the idea of stepping out. _Hey_ _Vespa. How're the axe-throwing students?_ (She refuses to tell him what she does for work, so Juno assigns her a new job every night.) 

She’ll respond with something like, _Great. If your failed PI business finally tanks, we could always use some new targets_. 

Maybe if Juno gets drunk enough, he’ll tell her why he’s not planning on ever being sober again. Tell her that he’s such a fucked up human, his fiancee ghosted him three weeks before the wedding with no forwarding address. Over _text_. 

She’ll have to laugh at that. It’s the goddamn joke of the century, and Juno’s the punchline.

He jumps violently when his phone starts ringing. “I know you can hear me, Steel,” Vespa sneers from her balcony. 

Juno groans at the name lighting up his screen. He was wrong- he’s not the punchline. Fucking Mick Mercury is. 

He almost sends it to voicemail, but at the last second he crosses to the balcony door, wrestles the screen closed as Vespa flips him off (“What, too busy getting wasted alone?”) and finally slides the door shut with a bang.

He leans against the wall by Smallfry’s cage.

“Whaddya want, Mick.” Juno’s brain struggles to keep up with the excited babble streaming out of the phone.

“Juno! That hit we got on your listing? That Peter guy? He messaged again!” 

No one’s outright _asked_ Juno, 'Did your fiancee ghost you three weeks before your wedding over text?', so he’s not _lying_ to his friends, per se. He just isn’t ready for the inevitable string of I-told-you-so’s from Rita and Vespa, who have hated Diamond since the moment they waltzed into Juno’s life ten months ago and stomped all over his heart with their designer boots.

Mick, bless him, is blissfully ignorant of Juno’s recent string of unfortunate life events. He’s blissfully ignorant about most things, actually, but his unending stream of well-intentioned business ventures mean he knows how to advertise. 

Juno isn’t sure who Craig is, or why he keeps lists of random shit online. All he knows is that he can't afford rent on his own, and Mick owed him a favor. A lot of favors. 

“Let me guess, he's found something better and he's not interested anymore.”

 _Fuck Diamond for putting him in this situation. Even if he deserves it. Even if he should’ve known better._

“No, Juno! He says, and I quote,” he clears his throat and reads dramatically, “‘Juno, would it be possible to move our rendezvous sooner? Due to personal issues I find I’m in need of accommodations a bit sooner than expected, and your ad did say the room was available _post haste_.’” Mick drops his voice back to normal. “He wants to meet sooner!”

“Yeah, I got that Mick. ‘Post haste’?”

“I went for a 'trustworthy but not desperate' vibe, ya feel?” Juno is quickly wishing he read and approved the ad before Mick posted it across the internet in his name. 

“All right Mick, whatever, sure, just let me know when you set it up for.” There’s a long, telling silence. “...Mick?”

“Okay so here’s the thing,” and with that, Juno knows the universe is screwing with him again, “I kinda already told him you could meet him tomorrow morning? At eight? And I gave him the address of the apartment?” His words get faster with each blow.

“You gave him the address? Goddamn it Mick, I thought we were meeting for coffee somewhere first so I could make sure he’s not some wackjob who wants to hack me to pieces and wear my skin as a suit!” Juno’s less worried about becoming a potential skin suit and more worried about waking up before noon with the spectacular hangover he’s got planned, but he’s not about to tell Mick that.

“Oh Juno, you’re so,” he chuckles, “you’re hilarious! Skin suit. Ha! You’ve been watching _Law and Order_ with Rita again, haven’t you?” Juno resists the urge to slam his head into the wall and end it all. 

“Anyways, get some sleep tonight and make a good impression on our friend tomorrow! I’ll pass him your number. And hey, maybe you could mention my new Hair-in-a-Can line? One good turn and all that. The recall went real smooth with the last one!”

“Mick, hang on, listen to me-” Juno’s cut off by a loud crash in the background.

“Sorry Juno, gotta go, the cans are a bit more,” _a high-pitched scream_ , “uh, high-pressured than we expected, good luck pal, don’t be a stranger!”

The line goes dead. _Perfect_. Juno eyes Smallfry. 

“Not like I have anything worth stealing, huh? Unless he deals in small, neurotic rabbits.” He restocks Smallfry’s hay before he’s too drunk to remember.

Vespa was convinced a hungry rabbit might be inclined to chew through the apartment wall and go on a carnivorous hunting spree. It was probably her favorite story.

_“My last roommate had a rabbit. It got mad when their sister’s rabbit got a nicer cage, so it chewed straight through the bars and,” she snapped her fingers, “chomp chomp. Nothing left but unlucky rabbits feet.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

_“What are you Steel, the rabbit whisperer? Okay, maybe it was a gerbil! Whatever, same difference.”_

Then he grabs an extra blanket from the hall closet (it really is starting to get cold), two bottles of liquor, and the TV remote and settles onto the couch for another long night.

* * *

The best mornings are the mornings Juno wakes up still drunk and pleasantly fuzzy. This is not one of those mornings.

His alarm is playing quite loudly, meaning it’s probably been going off for quite some time, and two things happen in quick succession as his brain painfully limps towards consciousness.

He rolls over in bed to grab at his phone and realizes the bed is actually a narrow couch. He hits the floor with a heavy _thump_ . He's blindly swiping across the floor trying to turn the damn thing off, ignoring the nagging anxiety that he’s forgotten something important when... _There!_

Blearily, he reads the alarm label… “SOUR CREAM.” _What?_

There’s a sharp knock at his door. His tipsy brain stumbles in tight circles. He set that alarm weeks ago while cooking… never bothered to re-label it.... that doesn’t explain…

A second set of knocking, more forceful this time, accompanied by a muffled voice.

It’s 7:52AM and he honestly can’t remember why he’s supposed to be waking up or who could possibly be at the door. No, wait… he vaguely remembers…

Mick. The phone call. The desperate roommate.

All at once, Juno’s certain that he doesn’t need a roommate. It’s only four months after all, and the idea of a complete stranger snooping around his stuff, asking questions about his life, getting tangled up with his job, makes Juno’s skin crawl. It’s not worth the money. He can figure that out… somehow.

It’s decided. He’ll ignore the knocking. This Peter guy will eventually give up, he’ll tell Mick to take down the advertisement, and he’ll figure something else out. 

Then a noise outside the door makes his blood run cold. He knows that giggle.

“Sorry Mista Criminal, lemme just, ngh-hungh, try that key.” Rita, traitor secretary and ex-best friend, is _using her spare key to let this man into Juno’s apartment_. The stranger’s muffled voice leaks through the door. “Could you maybe...?” 

There’s no time to think. Juno’s only on the second floor, there are bushes underneath the window. If he can get out quick enough, he might be able to avoid a meeting altogether-

“ _Thank_ you Rita, you are an absolute _gem_ , and twice as beautiful if I might add...” 

Might’ve been able to. If he’d moved a little quicker. The door clicks open.

“Hello! Juno, I presume?” 

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got about five chapters sketched out for the entire story arc, AND school starts again next week, so I'm tryinggg to get my ass in gear and post one chapter a week.
> 
> Please listen to Waiting on a Ghost by Left at London (Which @stubbornjerk quoted on their Penumbra art on tumblr? Which made me cry? The song and the art. The queer yearning is just. So strong. Go check them out.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working up to some action in the next couple chapters, as well as a few more familiar faces :) Sorry for the delay, /someone/ made this chapter ridiculously difficult *looking at you, Juno*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Past abusive relationship, dissociation, anxiety, depression

**Chapter 2**

He’s tall, and it’s not just the black studded boots or lean length of his limbs. 

It’s cliche, but... there’s something in the way he carries himself. Something in the curve of his painted lips and the angle of his shoulders. He’s wearing high waisted jeans and vanity sunglasses, round and light blue, gold frames. _Showy_ _._

Juno (with great effort) remains unbothered by his Oldtown basketball shorts and stained T-shirt. 

He’s got bigger problems to worry about. Namely, his foiled escape plan. 

“Ah, how lovely to meet you at... last?” the intruder’s voice trails off into mild confusion. “Juno, are you trying to crawl out the window?”

“I’d say I was succeeding.” One of Juno’s legs is dangling over the hydrangeas. He refuses to draw it back inside, leveling a glare at the newcomer.

“Is this how you greet all your potential roommates?” Ransom’s mouth doesn’t move as he saunters forward, but Juno can _feel_ the smirk. “I’d love to see the backyard.” 

And then- and then he leans in.

The window is _not_ large enough for two people. Certainly not while one person is trying to ignore the scent of the other’s overwhelming cologne. 

The way Ransom leans on the windowsill feels like a wink, and those eyes… they contain galaxies. Just as Juno feels his face flushing, Ransom breaks eye contact to gaze out over the filthy swimming pool and dead grass. 

In profile his face is lean but soft, with an innocent smile, and teeth so sharp a lady could cut himself on them. He’s the type of man who could steal your wallet, and you’d thank him for it.

It… isn’t unpleasant, all things considered. 

Juno clears his throat and, abruptly irritated for no reason, pulls his leg back inside the apartment. He slams the window shut. 

“Ransom, I’m guessing.” 

The taller man rises with a grace that should be illegal. “Only to my mother, Juno, please, call me Peter.” 

“Yeah, not likely. Rita?” Juno scans the room. He barely turns his head to the bemused man in the center of the room. “Sorry, turns out I got a better offer about…” Juno gestures vaguely, pulling a number from thin air, “five minutes before you showed up. Hope you didn’t travel far- Rita,” he raises his voice slightly, hoping this will magically summon her, “will show you out.” _Where the hell did she go?_ She must have slipped out quietly while the gangly male model was doing his _leaning_.

Ransom cocks his head, studying Juno as he sarcastically half bows and gestures out the front door-

Through which Rita marches, waving a sheaf of papers. “I got the leasing agreement right here, Mistah Criminal!” 

“Rita, what the hell.” She whirls on Juno, finger jabbing into his chest.

“ _You_ told me this was about a case.”

“Funny, I distinctly remember telling you it _wasn’t_ -” 

“I had to find out about Diamond from Mistah Mercury!” she wails, “And I know I wasn’ their biggest supporter-” 

“Rita…” Juno’s eyes dart to Ransom. He’s pointedly studying his nails. 

“-but I still worry! Whether you wanna see the files or not, you gotta admit that HCPD business was _nasty_ -”

“Rita!” 

“-reminds me of that _Grey’s Anatomy_ episode where Burke almost gets Cristina _fired_ after he gets shot cause’a all the cover-ups, but Cristina feels guilty and tells the chief and so _Burke_ almost gets fired, but even after all that they almost get _married_ -”

“I didn’t tell you because it’s _none of your goddamn business Rita drop it!”_ Peter is still studying his nails, but his eyebrows have crawled higher and higher over the course of Rita’s speech, and they peak at Juno’s outburst. 

Rita taps her chin thoughtfully.

“Well technically it _is_ my business Boss, ‘cause you hired me to look into Mistah Criminal who’s not _actually_ a criminal, ‘least not the bad kind, and while I was investigating him Mistah Mercury called ‘cause he was worried you would miss your appointment, and I said ‘what appointment?’ and he said ‘the one with Peter’ and I said, ‘hey _I’m_ looking into a Peter, what’re the odds?’ and turns out they’re very small odds Boss ‘cause-”

“I don’t need the rundown Rita, I think I’ve got it.” Juno sighs and drags a heavy hand down his face. “Remind me to outsource next time.”

“Sure thing Boss. Except _this_ time I think you should really listen to Mistah Not-a-Criminal’s offer,” her voice gets high and fast, like it does when she’s trying to convince him of something she knows he won’t like, “‘cause you ain’t got any other options and he offered to pay two months in advance?” 

_It’s not like you have any other options, Juno_. 

He shakes his head and snatches the papers from Rita. “Whatever, just… we’ll meet you downstairs when we’re done. Don’t you have a job to do or something?”

“Well I _did_ just start the fifth season of this show where magical princesses have to band together to fight an army of identical _space clones,_ but one ‘a the clones-”

Juno shuts the door in her face and cuts his eyes to Peter, whose face is annoyingly neutral. 

“Two months advance, huh? Must’ve been some job for Vicky.” Peter’s calculating gaze locks on to Juno.

“Who told you I was working for Vicky?” He stares until Juno feels heat rising up his neck.

“You seemed pretty desperate, I did some research. I've lived in Hyperion for eight years- ‘desperate’ usually means cosmic debt and a literal knife in my back.”

Ransom shrugs. “You dabble with dangerous characters, detective.” His next mild sentence is a punch to the gut. “I _did_ work with a ‘Diamond’ during my last… assignment. Though, if we’re thinking of the same person, it sounds like you parted on less-than friendly terms?” Juno grits his teeth.

“That’s pretty common Ransom, this place goes through tenants like Vicky goes through expensive pantsuits.” 

“Didn’t you just say you’d been here for eight years?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a higher tolerance for pantsuits than most.” Ransom doesn’t respond, but Juno can feel his stare boring into his back when he turns. “I’m a generous lady, I’ll give you the five-star tour before you commit to anything.” 

Juno isn’t sure what’s got Ransom so fixated on this room in particular, but he’s determined to rip off his rose-colored glasses.

* * *

“What a _marvelous_ desk! They left this behind? For shame!”

Juno’s arms are crossed and he’s slouched against the wall outside the spare room, refusing to watch Ransom flit around. _Touching_ everything. 

When he and Diamond moved in, Diamond immediately claimed the smaller room as their office and made it clear that Juno wasn’t allowed in, ever. 

_I need my_ space _, Juno. You understand._

Juno’s been inside twice. 

Once, soon after they’d moved in. It was Diamond’s birthday. 

Juno was still working for the police force- he was young, attractive, and most of his scars fit beneath his uniform. Back then, he was the kind of lady you’d be proud to have on your arm.

Diamond hadn’t left his office all day, and Juno snuck in with a monster birthday cake, determined to coax his partner away from their paperwork. The gesture... wasn't appreciated.

Diamond stomped off to meet his friends at a nearby bar, and Juno was left cleaning crumbs and frosting off of the office walls. He tried to wait up, scripting an apology in his head, but fell asleep on the pull-out couch. They came home drunk sometime past five in the morning.

_What, so my punishment for setting boundaries is that I have to sleep alone? You don’t get to make me the villain here, Juno!_

Juno didn’t so much as breathe near the doorknob after that. 

Until the night Diamond left, and he ripped the closet apart trying to find a hint of where they’d gone, why they’d left. Was there someone else? Were they in some sort of trouble? 

Or was it Juno that drove them away, all by himself? 

There were no answers among the discarded business clothes and boxes of useless knick-knacks, so Juno drank himself to sleep in that closet, wrapped in one of Diamond’s old jackets. Half-hoping he’d wake up and it would all be a dream. 

Half-hoping he wouldn’t wake up at all. 

If wishes were horses, and all that. Morning came, and Juno began the task of sorting through his ex-fiance’s belongings. Painfully, he remembers ranting about his first missing persons case, the infinite number of hiding places in the world. Diamond had only grinned.

_The interesting part is never where the victims disappear to, love. It’s what they left behind._

Most of it ended up in the trash. He kept the jacket.

If Ransom finds his distance strange, he doesn’t say so. Juno, meanwhile, finds _everything_ about Ransom strange. The prospective criminal is currently poking at crevices on the carved wooden desk as if waiting for a secret compartment to pop out.

“It used to be an office. You’re welcome to move shit around or throw it out. The couch folds into a bed, but I’m guessing you have one of those?” Juno challenges. Peter, predictably, doesn’t rise to the bait.

“I do _love_ a good fold out, so space-efficient! The closet is a bit… compact, but then,” he nudges the squeaky door hinge, “we all must make sacrifices.” 

And he keeps _saying_ shit like that. “We all must make sacrifices”, or “fate does work in mysterious ways, don’t you think?” 

(To which Juno had responded, “Sure, if by ‘fate’ you mean ‘Craigslist’ and by ‘mysterious’ you mean ‘shady’”.)

Juno never thought he’d find anyone as irritating as Mick, but Ransom’s got him beat by a hot mile. As Juno pulls Ransom away from the spare bedroom and leads him through the rest of the apartment, it feels as if they’re having two increasingly different conversations. 

“The bathroom air vent is broken-” 

“The steam buildup must be _superb_ for the skin.”

“-and there’s a mold problem.”

“This water pressure is incredible!” Juno eyes the sputtering trickle of shower water and raises an eyebrow. It becomes a game of sorts, looking for a flaw Ransom can’t turn positive.

“The elevators are down every weekend, I hope you like stairs.”

“I think you’ll find my endurance is up to par, Detective.” He winks.

(A very, very frustrating game.)

“The kitchen tap drips. _Constantly_.”

“Just my luck! I used to have a clever little machine that played water noises to help one fall asleep. Unfortunately, I misplaced it between moves…”

Juno desperately seeks out the inconveniences he’s been ignoring for years.

“The pool is covered in goose shit.”

“Natural wildlife!”

“The dishwasher sounds like an earthquake!”

“Ambience!”

Juno pinches the bridge of his nose. _He’s doing this on purpose_. 

“I think we’ve got different definitions of luxury, Ransom, remind me to never let you take me to dinner.” 

“More of a brunch person then? Duly noted."

"That's no what I-" Juno starts protesting, but the taller man is already moving on. "My god, look at this clever miniature oven!” Ransom exclaims. 

Juno stares incredulously. “Do you mean the microwave?!”

Ransom smiles brightly and leans against the kitchen countertop. “Brilliant.”

* * *

Juno is out of tactics, energy, and the will to live. Ransom has thwarted his every attempt to scare him off, and he’s either unfailingly optimistic or dangerously desperate. Juno’s ready to give in, shove the paperwork at him, anything to get some peace and quiet-

“And what could be hiding under- OH my goodness!” Juno turns just in time to see Ransom _leap_ away from the cage he’s just uncovered, revealing a small ball of fur with a twitching nose.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Ransom, it’s just a rabbit.” At the horrified look on his face, Juno asks (a bit too eagerly), “You’re not allergic, are you?”

“Well, I, no, that is…” he backs towards Juno, never taking his eyes off the cage, until he can grip his arm firmly. “Is it quite _safe_ _?”_ He hisses. 

“Well, you know rabbits,” Juno deadpans, “crafty, mean, and they’ll sell your leg straight off your body for a couple carrots.”

He likes to think Peter’s face goes a bit pale before he composes himself, straightening and brushing imaginary lint off his shirt.

“Well. It seems you _do_ have a sense of humor, Juno.” Then he flashes that sharp smile again, giving Juno emotional whiplash. “Besides, for a kitchen this size? And such a lovely view…” Ransom starts waxing poetic about the building facade. 

_Don’t be proud, Juno. You don’t wear it well._

As hard as he’s fighting it… He _really_ needs this. 

Juno breaks into Peter’s monologuing about the virtues of a slightly crooked table. “All right, all right, if you can pay the two months in advance, the room is yours.” 

“Excellent!” Ransom fishes a wad of cash out of his purse with two fingers. “This should cover it, I believe.” 

“Right… right now?” 

“Is that a problem?”

“Noooooo,” Juno starts slowly, “It’s just I still have… ugh, no, there aren’t any other viewings. Fine… hang on,” the other half of Ransom’s offer sinks in, “you’re paying entirely in _cash_?!” 

“Is _that_ a problem?” 

Juno adopts a similarly snarky tone. “I dunno _Ransom_ , is there a corpse in a ditch somewhere missing a couple dozen Benjamins?” 

Peter cocks his head. “I don’t think a corpse is capable of missing much of anything.”

“Y’know I can have Rita run a more _thorough_ background-” Peter cuts in smoothly.

“I can assure you it was all fairly obtained as compensation for my last job.” Juno stares at the hundred dollar bills. 

“What did you say you do for work?” 

“I didn’t,” that sharp grin, “But a lady like you must understand the value of one’s privacy. I’m hoping this will suffice in place of a written contract.” Juno flips through the bills again, pretending to re-count them while he considers. 

Even if Ransom backs out, with Diamond’s advance and this ridiculous wad of cash, Juno will at least be able to finish out his lease. Still, what kind of person carries this much cash and refuses to fill out paperwork?

On the other hand, from the way this guy is looking at Juno’s rabbit he doesn’t seem to be a dangerous criminal. And if he robs Juno of everything he owns, well, he doesn’t own much that’s worth anything. Plus this guy is a twig, Vespa could probably knock him out with her pinky finger.

“Deal.” 

“Excellent! I don’t own much, I just have some... loose ends to tie up. The notice said move in was available immediately. I’ll return, shall we say, this weekend?”

Juno’s thoughts begin to race again. He stares at the cash, feels this deal closing in on him, permanent. Suffocating. What if this goes horribly wrong? Can you evict someone who was never legally there? There aren’t even locks on any of the doors except the bathroom. 

He wants to say “no,” or “get lost,” or “only if you promise to ~~keep~~ stop looking at me like that.” 

What actually comes out, slightly strangled, is “This is $200 more than I asked.” He struggles to keep his voice flat. 

“Think of it as payment in advance. For your… discretion.” A sharp smile, an actual _wink_ , and Peter Ransom, larger than life, glides (there’s no other word for it) out the front door. 

Juno drops his head against the door with a _thunk_ and slides the deadbolt home. Then he pulls Smallfry’s wire playpen from the closet, starts laying down newspaper, and begins counting his many, many regrets.

* * *

The slam of a screen door. Heavy boots across the neighboring balcony. “Get your _ass out here_ Steel, before I fucking _throw it off the balcony!”_

Juno’s new roommate might be a psychopath and his secretary might have betrayed him, but at least Vespa’s in a pleasant mood. It really is a wonder that no one’s reported them for noise control yet. 

Juno shoots a look at Smallfry, recently deposited back in his cage. “If I don’t come back, make sure they find my body. Oh, and Rita’s puppets are in my closet, she can have those back.” He grabs one of the half-full bottles by his couch and slides the glass door open. 

“Vespa, fancy running into you h-”

“Save it, Steel,” she growls. There’s a dangerous look on her face as Juno sinks down in the nearest corner to lean against the metal bars. They’re cool on the side of his face. He picks at the stucco flooring with a fingernail, propping his other arm on his knees. Vespa remains towering over him, just out of punching distance (not that she hasn’t tried it before). 

“Say, were you planning on telling me about your fun new _pal_ moving in, or were you just going to send him over with a basket of cookies this weekend to introduce himself?” 

“Well, I was thinking more a basket of fruit, but it’s nice to know your preference. Chocolate chip or raisin?”

“What the fuck, Steel?” She’s outright hostile now, unlit cigarette forgotten between her fingers. She jabs it at him to emphasize her point. “None of us had the warm fuzzies for Cubic Zirconia, but what was your plan? Just, replace them with a Neal Caffrey knockoff with a really bad alias and hope no one notices?”

It’s harsh, and a retort settles heavy in his mouth. Juno pauses, takes a long swig, swallows the words down in a burning gulp. 

This isn’t really about Diamond moving out. 

Juno doesn’t know all the details, but he’s heard more than he probably should have between late night drinking binges and quiet balcony discussions between Vespa and her girlfriend. He knows Vespa thrives on routine and consistency. 

That way, she’s better able to tell the difference between reality and the nightmares her brain projects.

Vespa’s balcony is a safe haven, and a strange man appearing just two feet away with no warning could be... triggering.

“He’s not moving in until this weekend, I'll tell him to give the stab-happy lady next door some space.” That’s as close as he’s getting to an apology.

"You're a balcony away, Steel, I've never once _stabbed_ you," she growls.

"Right. You stabbed me _twice_ , and I've got the scars to prove it."

"Well, you can't prove that was intentional, you practically _fell on the blade_ yourself. If I was trying to stab you, you'd be _dead_."

"All I'm saying is, if you need someone to pincushion, my 'new pal' probably has a lot of enemies that'd be happy to help." He really _was_ planning on saying something to her before… “And hang on, how _did_ you find out about Ransom?”

At this, Vespa- well she doesn’t smile, exactly, but she stops scowling. “I have my ways, Steel. I know everything that goes on in this godforsaken complex.” Juno snorts.

“Okay Big Sister, maybe it’s time to find you a hobby. You get… creepy, when your girlfriend’s gone for too long.” Something thin and metal jabs him in the arm and he jolts upright.

“Ouch, what the hell?” He whips his head left to see Vespa crouching with a discarded plant stake that she’d poked through the bars to make contact. “Creepy and _increasingly violent_ , remind me when Buddy’s coming back?!” He rubs his arm.

The green-haired woman slumps down to mirror Juno’s position, gazing flatly ahead. “She’s tying up some loose ends with USAID and then she’ll be back.” Her voice is sharp, edged with anxiety. “Any day now.”

Something from earlier conversations with Rita tickles Juno’s brain… travel restrictions and a “plague”, though he’s sure that’s an exaggeration. Still, this is maybe the least volatile conversation he’s had with Vespa to date. No blood either.

He forces a snort. “It really is a shitty alias, isn’t it?” 

Vespa’s quiet for a moment, as if she isn’t going to bite, but then she runs a hand through her cropped hair and scoffs. “It ain’t subtle.”

“I don’t think he even knows what a microwave is?”

“I swear to god Steel, if your new friend sets off the fire alarm like last time-”

Juno thinks he hears a firm, patterned knock on his door, and he almost wonders if Rita’s back to make sure he didn’t drown Ransom in the pool. But then a blur of green is fumbling with her screen door, tripping inside, pounding footsteps to the door. He can’t see anything, but he hears the hitch in Vespa’s voice when the door opens. 

“Buddy?”

“Vespa?” The tenderness in her voice makes Juno feel like he’s intruding on something intimate just hearing it. “They were worried about the increasing travel restrictions, and I was set to come home so soon anyw-” she chuckles softly and her voice becomes more muffled. “I’m incredibly happy to see you too, I missed you terribly. Dear, I think you left the outer door open?”

There’s some shuffling, and the front door closes. A moment later, a head of wild red hair leans out. “Ah, hello Juno. Always a pleasure, darling.” She looks composed as ever, but Juno can see the shine in her eyes. He wonders what it’s like to miss someone and be missed just as much in return. 

Her girlfriend quickly appears, wrapping an arm around Buddy’s shoulder. “Yes, hello Juno, goodbye Juno,” she finishes, in a growl that’s downright cheerful for Vespa. 

She shuts the door firmly and draws the blinds. He can hear something clattering to the floor and then giggling. _At least she remembered the blinds this time, and he doesn’t have to consider gouging his eyes out._

Juno slowly rises and heads back inside. He picks up his phone and stares emptily at the screen. It feels a bit like he’s floating through a swimming pool. He’s going to have a roommate soon, Diamond isn’t coming back, and everything is changing so fast around him while Juno stays exactly the same.

_You can’t just check out, Juno. It’s such a bad habit._

The open office door taunts him, and the walls start to feel like they’re pressing in.

_You’re doing this to yourself._

His lungs start to tighten.

_I can’t be your rehabilitation center Juno! I’m not a fucking therapist!_

A frenzy of motion and noise erupt from Smallfry’s cage. Startled and confused, he trudges over and unhinges the lid. He’s careful not to make any sudden movements, but the closer he gets, the calmer his rabbit seems. Nothing’s out of place.

He pokes his fingers in slowly, stroking the soft fur. 

“You’re so dramatic, you know that?” Juno stands there feeling the fur move beneath his fingers. Smallfry chitters back. “Useless rabbit. Why couldn’t you have gone rabid when Ransom was here?”

He’s not having a panic attack anymore, but he’s too wired to sleep, so he closes the near-empty dishwasher and presses “Hot Start”. The chrome warms as he leans his back against it, letting the rumbling quiet his mind. He pulls out his phone.

Twelve unopened messages from Rita, which isn’t unusual. Two calls from an unknown number, which is. He clears both notifications away. 

_Run away like you always do, Juno._

He’s about to put on a mindless podcast or book on tape, something that will drown out his ex-lover’s voice, but his fingers have a different idea. They’re dialing the number before he can stop himself. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s been hours or weeks, Juno could run in a straight line for years and still end up right where he started. Same old flat. Same old wants. Same old hurts. 

After all, in Hyperion City, the voices that exorcise your demons often start to sound a whole lot like the demons themselves.

_"Sorry, the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected or no longer in service."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Peter totally pronounces “privacy” like “prih-vuh-see”  
> -Reviews are like coffee, they make me stay up all night writing in a caffeine-induced haze  
> -tumblr me @savvy-en-garde and we can scream into the void about Juno Steel


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -If you’re wondering how far off track this story has gone from the original one-shot plan, I keep forgetting to include the quarantine bits and I have to go back and insert them halfway through when I remember THAT WAS LITERALLY THE FOCAL POINT OF THIS STORY  
> -Seriously this was supposed to be a rom-com one shot but Peter couldn't fucking give it a rest   
> -TW: canon-typical alcohol abuse, references to abusive relationship

**Chapter 3**

MONDAY, 10AM 

_“...A new man came into town today. Who is he? What does he want from us? Why his perfect and beautiful haircut? Why his perfect and beautiful coat? He says he is a scientist. Well…we have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here?...”_

Is Juno doing great? Not exactly. Falling apart? Well, that just sounds dramatic. Pissed at Rita’s unauthorized tinkering, which has left his car radio stuck on this... disturbing news station? Oh yeah.

_“...A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Night Vale Elementary gymnasium during basketball practice...”_

Is it even a news station? He grips the steering wheel tightly and resists the urge to pick rubber off the steering wheel. He’s purposefully ignoring the crack in his windshield now (is it getting larger?), instead working on rolling the windows up and down. 

(He just snapped at Rita the other day for doing the same thing, but he’s not turning the air conditioning on unless something’s on fire.)

(Maybe that’s why she’s jammed his stereo to this weird station, knowing full well he has no idea how to switch it back.)

_“...He grinned, and everything about him was perfect, and I fell in love instantly...”_

Juno rolls his eyes, glancing down the streets. Governor Pilot Pereyra has called for a shelter in place, and the bustling city has thinned out a bit. The suspicious distance between strangers is familiar in Hyperion. The masks are not. 

Juno’s trying to sort out his conversation with Ransom last night. He cannot get a read on this man, and now his life might actually depend on it... well, after this last month, he doesn’t trust himself to tell red flags from green flags from 'I'm going to leave you at the alter' flags. 

_“...I fear for Carlos. I fear for Night Vale. I fear for anyone caught between what they know and what they don’t yet know that they don’t know…”_

“OKAY, looks like we’re driving in silence today.” Juno jams the audio off and suddenly feels a bit foolish. He can feel sweat beading under his arms and at the back of his neck.

Just yesterday he was watching Ransom flit around depositing his absurd amount of _stuff_. As far as Juno could tell, he only carried a couple of bags, but the bathroom cabinet is stuffed to the brim and Juno’s seen him eying the hall closet more than once. 

_Armed with a couple of bags and a death wish_. Juno had warned his new roommate about Vespa. He just had no idea Ransom’s sights were locked on a much more dangerous target. 

* * *

THE DAY BEFORE: SUNDAY, 6AM 

It’s earlier than Juno would prefer to be conscious. He’s not going to be conned into helping Ransom haul boxes around, but he’s also not letting him bring stuff in unsupervised. He’s not an _idiot_. 

A walking stack of books and DVD’s teeters into the apartment.

“Carry your own shit, Ransom!” Juno snaps from his position underneath the now empty bar. (The former bar chairs were a housewarming gift from Diamond’s brother. Sometime during the hazy week after they left, the chairs were found floating in the grimy pool. _A real shame_.) 

“It’s all right Boss!” Rita interjects cheerfully around the stack in her arms, “Mistah Criminal’s got tapes for shows you can’t even _find_ online anymore! And he says I can come over and watch them whenever I want!”

Ransom’s head pops around ~~Diamond’s~~ his door. “Within curfew, and if it’s all right with Juno, yes?”

“Whenever I want between 7:00 and 10:00PM!” she amends, adding, “ _and_ if you ain’t working or busy or grumpy, but I told him you’re always grumpy or busy with somethin’, so don’t worry ‘cause I have my own key! You won’t even know I’m here Boss, I’ll be as quiet as a really quiet secretary watching shows with her new friend!” 

Juno sighs loud enough for Ransom to hear. It only takes so long to... color-code a closet or whatever, but he’s been in there all day doing _something_ suspicious. 

All right, so the door is wide open. But Juno won’t be caught snooping, or worse- showing interest. It’s just that the bar and the kitchen run up against the second bedroom, and if Juno scoots to the far end... and leans forward enough… he can just see…

“OH and I almost forgot, I got more of those limited edition mint Cheetos you liked so much Boss!” Rita, appearing in front of him like some cheery specter. He startles, hitting his head on the bar.

“Jesus, Rita, a little warning?!”

“The shipping was a doozy ‘cause of the crazy increase in online orders but don’t you worry! We’ll have snacks by Friday, or my name isn’t _Rita!”_

Juno drops his head between his knees to rub the quickly forming knot. She continues under her breath, “Which is ridiculous, ‘cause my name IS Rita.”

“I _don’t_ like the mint ones. I specifically remember saying ‘Rita, I don’t like these, stop leaving them on my pillow,’” Juno grumbles.

She can’t hear him anyway. Ransom’s emerged to press a couple of disks into her hands. “Until we meet again, Rita, I _so_ appreciate your kind offer of assistance this morning. You shine brighter than Venus in the July sky.” _Seriously, does this crap actually work on anyone?_

“Ngh ngh, I see what you’re doin’ here Mistah,” Rita waggles her finger at him, “...and I love every second of it, don't ever stop!” She waves to Ransom on her way out the door and almost runs into the wall. 

_Well she won’t be any help with recon_. Rita’s been googly over “Mistah Criminal” since she helped him break in a couple days ago, but Juno has an itchy feeling in his gut telling him Ransom isn’t just here to flirt and spray his cologne everywhere. (Although he has done both of those things. Multiple times.)

Maybe he doesn’t have any evidence, and _sure_ , it sounds a bit paranoid, but that feeling is the reason he’s alive and not kicking the oxygen habit in a ditch somewhere. Something about Peter Ransom is _off_.

“I’m surprised you would trust anyone with a key, detective.” Juno jumps again, this time narrowly missing the ledge. Ransom is standing in front of him in a white button down with the sleeves cut off, baring his lean arms. His outstretched hand offering… an ice pack. “Even your exceptional secretary. You strike me as the, well, _private_ type.”

Juno wants to snark back with a ‘private eye’ comment, but… he hesitates. Their eyes meet. Ransom’s studying him like he’s trying to swan dive into his brain, and meanwhile Juno is drowning. He can't swim, and he's not even sure he wants to start breathing again. He slowly takes the ice. 

Ransom’s boots are inches from his shoes. _Too close_. Juno surfaces. “I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate about Rita-” he starts heatedly. Ransom smoothly cuts him off.

“Not a thing, she seems like a brilliant woman and I’m sure she’s an irreplaceable coworker.” He pauses. “I only meant that in our- well, when you run in the circles that we do, trust does not come quickly, or easily. I suppose I’m curious.” ‘ _The circles that we do’?_ It’s too early and he’s too tired, so he files it away.

“I’ve changed the locks three times. She always manages to get her hands on a copy. Anyway, Rita’s gotten me out of some rough spots.” He leans his head back to rest against the wood until he can’t see Ransom’s face anymore. “Drinking... wasn’t my only vice. She’s saved my life more than once.”

“A good friend.”

Juno shrugs. “She’s family.”

Ransom is quiet for a beat. Then, softly, “It is nice to know someone has your back, especially in those moments when you yourself do not.” By the time Juno lifts his head, Ransom is gone. Back inside that room that Juno can’t bear to look in. 

_Of all the cryptic bullshit_ … 

He slaps the ice on the bar and pulls himself up to retrieve carrot spears from the fridge. Smallfry has been hiding in her igloo the past few days, unsure about all of the changes.

“Me too, girl,” Juno mutters, shaking the bag with a little too much force into her cage. “Me too.”

* * *

It only takes a couple hours, but by the time they’ve finished, Juno finds himself nodding off. With creeping dread, he realizes there’s one aspect of having a roommate that he didn’t think of.

_Ransom will notice if he’s sleeping on the couch every night._

He opens the bedroom door, and quietly shuts it behind him. Just… looks for a minute. There’s not anything inherently terrifying about it. The nightmares are dependent on how much alcohol he has or hasn’t drunk, not his location. 

It’s just a bed.

 _I can’t sleep when you’re constantly clinging to me, Juno, there’s two sides for a_ reason.

_If you’re too tired to celebrate, I’ll bring the celebration to you. No, it’s all right, I sent everyone home already- I’m just so happy we put this behind us. You’re a business owner now! Private Investigator… very sexy._

_You’re_ tired _? How do you think I feel, Juno? I spend the day defending you to Captain Hijikata instead of doing my actual job, and I come home to you questioning me like this? I’m fucking exhausted!_

_Look at yourself, Juno, you’re wasted. Again. Get up. Go! Don’t come home until you’ve sobered up._

_Let’s do it. Yeah, why not? Let’s get married. Say you’ll marry me, Juno-_

There’s a loud _CRACK_ from the kitchen, jolting Juno from a lifetime of memories. He’s at the door like a shot, sliding in his socks around the corner to find- Ransom, leaning innocently over the kitchen counter.

“What,” he drags a hand down his face to grip his jaw, “are you doing.”

There’s water everywhere. He has a laptop on the counter with a browser open. Juno’s eyes flick to the top of the page- Google results, _“why is my coffee maker smoking?”_ Ransom snaps it shut with a smile. Juno literally feels the years of his life draining away. 

“Good morning, detective! This coffee maker is very unique.”

“It’s a drip machine. It doesn’t get more common than that.”

“Ah, yes, that explains the… dripping, then.”

“No," Juno grits out through clenched teeth, "no it does not. Just, can you- maybe- stop that-” Trying to maneuver into the tiny kitchen to grab a towel and make sure nothing’s on the verge of imploding, Ransom is suddenly _impossibly_ in the way, all gangly limbs and the scent of that cologne. It reaches out, overwhelming-

“I’ve got it!” Juno’s voice cracks at the end, and he clears his throat. “I’ll fix it can you just please, just, go _stand over there_ ,” overwhelmed, he gestures to the dining table a safe distance away. Probably safe. Unless Ransom breaks a leg off or something.

With sudden (and suspicious) grace, Ransom disentangles himself and practically waltzes over to perch on a kitchen chair. He crosses his legs, face neutral, eyes glinting.

Juno clears his throat. There are wet coffee grounds in the sink. Somehow the pot is still intact. He takes a breath. Then he takes another, deeper breath.

“I’ve always been more of a tea connoisseur myself-”

“Yeah? Because I’d love to have a chat with the person who let you near _boiling water_.” 

“My mother, may she rest in peace." Ransom responds smoothly. "I inherited my good looks from her, you know.”

All of a sudden, Juno’s exhausted. All he wants to do is curl up somewhere safe. Away from the memories of a shared bed, or his last roommate who also preferred tea but always had a pot of coffee waiting for Juno when he woke up.

“Look, just. If you want coffee or something let me know. And please, for the love of god don’t try and cook anything.”

“That is probably for the best. Perhaps I should focus my energies on finding an acceptable housewarming gift for our neighbors?” Juno snorts.

“Friendly suggestion? Don’t meet our neighbors. Try to warm Vespa’s house and she’ll light you on fire.”

“I... see. And your other neighbors? Anyone I should be concerned about? Arch nemeses, jilted ex-lovers, the like?” _Ha. No, I tend to drive his ex-lovers out of the city entirely._

“I don't know about you, but _I'm_ not living out a bad soap opera.”

“Hm. That does ease the mind considerably. I’d heard rumors that Hyperion was the place to retire if you didn’t want to be found.” _Interesting._

“Sorry to disappoint. Running from something, Ransom?”

The other man props his head on one hand and slides his gaze to Juno with a self-deprecating smile. “Only my own memories, detective. I’m sure you can relate?” 

“Nope. Physical exercise? Not my strong suit. Never did get that presidential fitness award in middle school. It's a real pity.” Ransom lets out a musical laugh.

“You don’t take anything seriously, do you detective? I can respect that. Standing up against the big, mean world and laughing…”

Juno stares at him, unimpressed. Without breaking eye contact, he begins rinsing the ruined coffee grounds down the sink.

The culprit is unfazed. “In all seriousness though, I am glad to find a place on such short notice. You can’t imagine how difficult it is to find a room in the city right now.”

Juno halfheartedly swipes a towel over the largest puddle. “Sure. Praise be. Whatever. I’ll be…” _sleeping in my car because I’m so fucked up I can’t stand the sight of my own bed_. Juno trails off, waving his hand vaguely, “out for a bit. Try not to set anything on fire.”

He childishly shuts the door before Ransom can respond.

Curled up in the backseat under an old ratted blanket, Juno wonders how he’s going to do this for the rest of the year. Another week, even. 

There are two types of people in Hyperion. The ones who wear their scars on their skin, and the ones who swallow them down like knives, pretty and neat. Sliced up on the inside.

Diamond was the second type. Juno didn’t realize just how sharp their edges were until he tried to pick up their pieces. 

He isn’t proud of his own pockmarked skin, necessarily, but every mark he bears is one that Ben doesn’t have to. ~~Didn’t have to.~~ As often as he looks in a mirror and hates his reflection, he is proud of that. _Fat lot of good it did in the end_.

Seeing Peter Ransom’s pretty smile and smooth skin, Juno’s pretty sure he knows which category to put him in. It’s nothing he can’t handle. He’s just tired, tired, tired of living from cut to cut. 

* * *

Juno drifts in and out of anxious thoughts for a couple hours before he decides to throw in the towel. The apartment hasn’t gone up in flames yet, and he doesn’t want to push his luck. Anyway, he’s been promising Rita he’d sort through the case files she printed off for him and pick one before the week is up.

He presses the elevator button about thirty times, mostly out of boredom. In retaliation the elevator doors _ding_ open to reveal-

“Juno Steel!” 

“Engstrom,” Juno intones flatly, “I’ll take the next one.” 

Juno makes a habit of _not_ getting friendly with his neighbors. See: stab wounds and verbal haranguing. Fortunately, Engstrom doesn’t get his hands dirty anymore.

“Don’t be silly my boy! Get in, get in.”

Unfortunately, Juno had a front row seat to his reformation. It is strange to see him without his ever-present bodyguard though...

“I see you’re flying solo. Valencia lets you wander around unsupervised now?”

The large man chuckles, clapping a firm hand on Juno’s shoulder. Juno swallows a flinch. “I appreciate the concern- I had quite a few enemies back in the day- but we’ve kissed and made up! All friends now, all friends.” _Right, because you killed the ones who wouldn’t make nice_.

It’s a short, uncomfortable ride, and Juno takes great pains not to leap out of the elevator when it reaches his floor. Still, Engstrom gets in one last parting shot. 

“Oh, and Juno- tell your new friend Duke I said hello. So nice meeting him the other day.”

“Who,” Juno asks flatly.

Engstrom chuckles and the doors begin to close. “Such a player! I was under the impression he’d moved in with you, but maybe you’ve moved on. Poor dear, I think he thought it was serious.” _Click_.

Juno has an overwhelming urge to kick the door. He’s actually considering it when a neutral, “Hello, Juno Steel,” comes from just over his left shoulder. 

“AH- what is _with_ people today? Were you just waiting in the shadows-” Juno got a clearer look at the taller man. “Hang on. I know you!” 

“Correction- I know you.” The man’s voice is eerily calm and even, at odds with his large frame and hard eyes. 

Eyes that had been following Juno around for years. For a large apartment complex full of shady individuals, this specific security guard sure winds up outside Juno’s door often. 

“What do you mean you _know me_?”

“I am a friend of Vespa and Buddy’s.” 

“Funny, never heard them mention you.”

“They have mentioned you.” He doesn’t look inclined to elaborate. They stand in silence, staring at each other until Juno finally breaks.

“Well, I don’t really have the time to swap stories, big guy, so I'm going to head out. Maybe we can reschedule, grab a coffee sometime.” Juno turns to stalk away.

“I do not drink coffee. I do, however, recommend you take care around your new roommate.” _Wow, what a surprise. Ransom thinks the world revolves around him, and it turns out it actually does._ Juno’s not an idiot. He hasn’t missed Ransom’s calculating looks and careful non-disclosures. 

He just prefers to keep Ransom right under his nose until he figures out what it is.

 _A figure of speech, but you could track that man by scent alone- it’s the eighth wonder of the world that he manages to do_ anything _subtly_. The fact that other people have also noticed and felt strongly enough to warn him though- it’s really rubbing Juno the wrong way.

“That’s what your whole cloak and dagger spiel is about? Ransom?”

“I am not wearing a cloak, nor am I armed. But yes, that is what he is currently calling himself.”

Juno feels a trickle of discomfort. “That’s generally how names work, you pick one and people call you that- speaking of, you haven’t told me _your_ name.”

“I have not. There are two things you should know. First, out of many apartment listings, it is curious that Peter Ransom found yours the most appealing.” 

“What, because of the bad water pressure and my dangerous levels of charm?”

“No, because it was erroneously categorized under ‘ _Discussion Forums: Haiku_.’ It is surprising that he found your listing at all.” 

“He...it what.” Juno groans. _Mick_ . “Nope, no, I’m not even surprised at that one.” Ransom’s voice from earlier echoes through his mind. _You can’t imagine how difficult it is to find a room in the city right now._

“You said there were two things?” Juno gestures impatiently for him to go on. 

“Ransom is only one of many names he has chosen to be called by. Past a certain point, all of them are untraceable.”

 _Tell your new friend Duke I said hello_. Juno masks his alarm with annoyance. “Thanks for the heads up Nosy Nelly, why do you even know all of this?”

“A mediocre guess at best, but that is not my name.” Then the man echoes Vespa’s words from earlier. “Also, I know this because it is my job to know everything that goes on in this building.” _Huh. Maybe they are friends._

“Well, that’s just… creepy. And invasive.”

“I am sorry you feel that way. Take care, Juno Steel.” Juno watches the large man badge himself into the stairwell, then turns back to face his apartment door. He pulls his flask out of his coat pocket and takes a long swig before reaching for the handle. “Duke” has a lot to answer for.

* * *

In all fairness, Juno _had_ warned him. 

“We could _hear_ the gnawing, but it was impossible to tell which direction it was coming from. Then, we realized… _it was coming from inside the mattress_.”

“Oh dear!”

Juno dumps his bags on the kitchen counter and steps out onto the balcony.

“Ransom, I see you’ve met Vespa.” She flashes a sharp smile at Juno (not unlike Ransom’s own, he notes).

“I was just telling your new _room friend_ here that rabbits are nothing to be afraid of.” 

Ransom smiles painfully, looking a bit pale. “Ah, how reassuring- that is a different direction than I originally thought the story was head-”

“That’s funny Vespa, I thought you were out with Buddy for the weekend when your _roommate’s gerbil_ _died_.”

Ransom lets out a quiet, affronted _“gerbil?”_ which Vespa wholly ignores. “It’s my story, Steel, I can apply creative license whenever I want.”

“Well, I think Ransom’s had enough creativity for the day. Isn’t that right, _dear?_ ”

Something clicks behind Ransom’s eyes. “I do hate to cut your story short, but it seems-” 

Vespa continues on as if Ransom is an annoyance on Juno’s balcony that doesn’t exist. “‘Dear’? Seriously? I set the bar pretty low for you Steel, but even you can do better than this idiot.” 

Juno links arms with the now indignant idiot. “Thanks Vespa, you always know how to boost a lady’s confidence. Don’t you and Buddy have some catching up to do?” He tugs Ransom inside and slams the door shut just as something _thwaps_ against the window. 

“I don’t know why you insinuated that she was unpleasant, she seems lovely.” 

Juno untangles his arm from Ransom’s and whirls around to face him. “Yeah, unfortunately my bullshit meter’s topped out for the night, ‘Duke’. Time to clean up.” Ransom drops gracefully into a chair, and Juno sets his palms on the table leaning over him. “What the hell is going on? Either tell me exactly who you are and why you're here, or I'm calling security.” 

Ransom doesn’t seem surprised to hear the alias fall from Juno’s mouth. 

In fact, with only a brief hesitation, he rises from his chair and leans to meet Juno with a small smile. Juno can't help it- his eyes drop to those curving lips, inches away. “You should get some sleep. We’ve got a very busy day tomorrow, detective.” _Okay, not the reaction he was expecting._

“That’s- I- I’m sorry, _we_?” Juno straightens, sputtering indignantly. "Did you- did you hear anything I just said?!"

Ransom kicks his chair back with a screech. “You’ve been hired. My employer has… interest in one of your fellow tenants, and I could use your help smoothing the waters. He seems to have taken a liking to you.” 

“So, what, you just assume I’m going to help you? I don’t know the first thing about you ‘Ransom,’” he air quotes with his fingers, “ _if_ that’s even your real name! I have no idea what you think you stand to gain by weaseling your way in here, but I don’t deal with liars, and I _definitely_ don’t work with criminals.”

“I heard you struck a deal with Valles Vicky a while back.” Juno notices he doesn’t respond to the 'criminal' accusation. And anyway, that’s just… _so_ beside the point.

“Yeah well, I’ll try anything once.” 

“And then assisted her recently with a gallery of stolen paintings arranged by her vindictive ex-girlfriend.” 

“I’ll try anything _twice_ , then.” Juno growls.

Ransom chuckles and Juno's on fire. Everything he does is so _purposeful_ , and the purpose today seems to be ‘discovering how far I can push Juno before he goes off the edge.’ 

“I can see why he respects you.”

“I don’t even know who you’re talking about, but in case you haven’t noticed I’m not really out having afternoon tea with-”

“Engstrom.” 

Juno throws his hands up. “Excuse me?!”

“Brock Engstrom is our mark.” If Juno’s being honest… his smile is just as thrilling as it is terrifying. “We’re going to need one of his diamonds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to cut this chapter short because honestly… it was getting long. The original ending point was halfway through the heist, but you'll have to wait for that next chapter ;) Seriously though y’all have been so kind and patient, thank you so much for the comments and likes and shares, it’s really kept me going! I don't have a beta atm so I always appreciate constructive feedback if you feel like someone is ooc, etc.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ my brain: can we please just. Sit down and finish this we know what's gonna happen already. Please.  
> My brain: ...no. And for your insolence, we ADD A CHAPTER.
> 
> (Basically this will now be six chapters long due to the heist literally no one asked for.)

**Chapter 4**

_Tap, tap, tap._

“If you think I am going anywhere with you-”

“Technically I'm here at _your_ request, Detective. You asked Vicky to connect you with a Venonian expert, did you not? ”

A cold shiver runs down Juno’s spine. “How do you know about...”

_‘All that Venonian stuff. I got a contact.’ ‘Great. How do I reach him?’ ‘You don’t. He ain’t exactly in the phone book.’_

Ransom shrugs. “You need someone with all the dots. I could use a detective to help connect them. We’re a match made in Valles Vicky's Vixen Valley.” 

_Tap. Tap._

Juno begins pacing. “Nuh-uh. No way, the universe does not hate me this much.”

 _Tap, tap, TAP_.

Juno stabs a finger at the balcony door, cutting off whatever Ransom was about to say. “Listen, I’m going to deal with this, and then I’m going to deal with you. Don’t. Move.” 

Ransom rests his chin on his fist and grins up at Juno. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

_TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP_ -

Juno slams the glass door open and grabs at the garden stake. 

The woman wielding it tugs it swiftly out of reach, resting it like a club on her shoulder. “Took you long enough,” she grumbles. He has the ridiculous urge to laugh, or maybe scream. 

Vespa tilts her head, sensing something off in their routine. “Earth to Steel, did the aliens finally snatch your last brain cell?”

 _One thing at a time_. “Ever heard of using the front door, Ilkay? You knock, I pretend I’m not home. Could be fun.”

“Ever heard of social distancing, asshat?” Ransom’s in his peripheral vision, leaning his chair back and checking his nails. 

“Look, I’m kind of in the middle of something Ilkay. If you want to set up another playdate, I’ll let Ransom know- maybe you can show him the deep end of the swimming pool.” 

“Aw, trouble in paradise, _darling?_ _”_ Vespa slashes the garden stake forward and cackles when Juno swipes and misses again. 

A warm voice projects from the kitchen. “Vespa dear, if you antagonize the lady too much, he might refuse our hospitality.”

“We can only hope,” Vespa growls, following it up with, “Buddy says group dinner. Tomorrow.” 

_Tell me, Detective, do you like to gamble?_

“Tomorrow?” _Oh sorry,_ _I’ll be chumming it up with Engstrom. Save me some dinner rolls._ A strange hysterical feeling is ballooning in Juno’s chest. Ransom is lounging at his kitchen table like a time bomb; Juno keeps sneaking glances to make sure he hasn’t disappeared. “Pretty sure my dance card is full that night- I’ll have to take a raincheck.” 

To his chagrin, Buddy herself sweeps onto the tiny balcony. Juno groans internally. You don't say no to Buddy. At least, not to her face. She looks impossibly regal in her silk dressing gown among the drooping tomatoes and shelved pots of herbs, red hair pinned across one eye. Her hand comes to rest fondly on Vespa’s shoulder. They gravitate towards each other, like the tide to the moon. Sometimes Juno wonders how their sharp edges fit together. 

“Juno dear, I think what Vespa was trying to convey is how much we’d love to have you at our _family_ dinner tomorrow evening. We’ll stay on our respective balconies so it’s perfectly safe. Rita will join you, of course- you can even bring your ‘Ransom’ if you’d like.”

Heat crawls up Juno's neck, and he fights it down. “That’s not- you’ve got the wrong-” Juno sputters, “-he’s not _my_ anything!” Vespa cackles.

Buddy’s eyebrows climb. “Well of course dear, apologies for the assumption. Though I am ever so excited to see everyone together again after so long. Unless... you have more urgent matters to attend to?”

Juno’s “urgent matter” waggles its fingers at him through the screen door. _He can’t tell them he’s invited an international jewel thief into his apartment._

“Well urgent is a strong word _,_ but-” 

“Splendid! 6PM sharp then.” She squeezes Vespa’s hand and sweeps back inside. 

“Hey wait a minute!”

Vespa pointedly does not break eye contact as she leans her stake beside the door and follows her girlfriend inside.

Juno takes a deep breath through his nose, and then mirrors her. The sooner he takes care of this, the sooner he can drink about it.

______________

“Okay, so your employer hired you to get close to Engstrom because she wants this… diamond. Which Engstrom's goons lifted from her research group.”

“Yes.” 

Juno stops pacing and leans his hands on the table in front of his grinning companion, appreciating the height advantage for once. Ransom looks positively soft. He's changed into silk pajamas, and he's got both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Though his makeup is still fully intact, his hair is beginning to fall out of its perfect coif. Juno has the strangest urge to reach out and tuck it back into place... _nope. Nuh-uh Steel, not doing that again._

“So. Not only do I know Engstrom, I live directly below him-"

"That route's been exhausted. His apartment is impenetrable through air ducts or any alternative entrances."

"I'm... not going to ask how you know that. I don't want to know." Juno sinks into the chair, quickly losing steam. "He also trusts me because he thinks I purposefully mishandled evidence when I worked for the HCPD, getting him out of a life sentence on a technicality.” 

“A convenient misunderstanding.”

 _S_ _implification of the decade_ _._ Juno shakes his head. _Focus_. He allows himself to piece together all the red flags, all the things that would have put him on high alert far earlier if he hadn't been so sad or lonely or goddamn _bored._

“Either you or your employer must've been been following my recent cases, so when my name fell out of Vicky’s mouth-” 

“And what a lovely name it is-” 

“-you decided your best option would be to fake impending homelessness, invent an, honestly, just _terrible_ alias, and _move in with me?!”_

Ransom shrugs. “That wouldn't be entirely accurate.”

“Huh?”

“I really was in desperate need of a room. You’d be horrified to discover what acts of civic duty are considered felonies these days. Your listing was just the cherry on top of a very... crumbly cake.”

“Look at you, using baking metaphors.” Juno snarks, before gesturing widely with one arm. “Did you seriously think this was going to work?”

"Oh, I knew it would. Mostly because I have researched you. Intensively.” 

“ _What._ ” 

He grins up at Juno, steepling his fingers. “Just, an incredible amount of research.”

“Quit it!” Juno scoffs reaching out to cover Ransom's mouth with his hand. Ransom chuckles and ducks away, and Juno rips his fingers back if they'd been burned. Since when did the urge to touch Ransom's face turn into _actually touching Ransom's face?_ Even if it did earn him a genuine smile for once. A smile that wasn't pre-packaged or crafted to take down a mark.

The look on the thief's face is painfully soft for a brief second. “There’s our cranky detective.” 

Juno's scrambling for a witty retort when, to his surprise, Ransom stands and begins gathering his coat, phone, and mug as if the conversation is over.

“What- where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed. Obviously there are a few minor details to smooth out, but that can wait til morning. My employer will be pleased that you've accepted our offer." He tilts his head towards the kitchen. "You're running short on groceries. Perhaps we can reconvene over a nice take-out breakfast?”

“Woah there, hold up, that does not even _begin_ to cover-”

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us, Detective. I suggest you get some rest.” With that, he slips into his bedroom.

Juno glares at the closed door. “Don’t you think the exits are getting a bit melodramatic?!”

No response.

“Fine! I hope you have some granola bars stashed away, because I’m not going anywhere with you tomorrow!”

_______________________

_“Two sausage and egg McMuffins, one black coffee, one southwest grilled chicken salad, and a large sweet tea. Will that be all for today?”_

“Yes.” Juno grits out into the speaker. 

_“Your total will be ready at the second window.”_ He pulls his face mask into place and pulls forward.

“So kind of you to drive us to breakfast, Detective,” Ransom says mildly from the passenger’s seat.

Juno levels him with a glare. “You _literally_ blackmailed me. And it’s two in the afternoon!” 

“Well, you refused to come out of your room.” Peter lays an affronted hand over his heart. “And _blackmailed_ seems like a strong word between friends.”

Juno thinks back to that morning.

...

_He’d just started a blissfully warm shower to ease the aching muscles in his back. (Sleeping on the floor, not great for the spine.) Steam blanketed the room, and he was about to start undressing when he reached for a towel and found-_

_“ARGH- Ransom, what the hell are you-?!” The thief held a finger to his lips and eased the door closed._

_“Listen very carefully.” He moved towards Juno, but froze upon realizing the shorter man, still fully clothed, was clutching a fuzzy towel in front of him like a shield._

_His hands went up in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry to startle you, but I can’t be sure the apartment isn’t bugged.” He casually flipped on the rickety air vent to add background noise._

_“Gee Ransom, buy a lady dinner first.”_

_“I’ve got something better- how about the chance to prevent a mass murder?"_

_“Wow, you’re really pulling out all the stops.”_

_“I’ll explain everything at a safer location. Suffice it to say that there's more at stake here than a missing jewel. My behavior might seem extreme, but when it comes to my employer, we are better safe than sorry. Those who underestimate her tend to end up…” he waved his hand through the damp air, “...dead.” He leaned impossibly closer and lowered his voice. Juno felt the edge of the bathroom counter digging into his lower back._

_Ransom’s glasses began misting over in the most ridiculous way, which he of course pretended not to notice. It was... disgustingly endearing. Until he opened his mouth again.“As soon as she finds out I’ve defected, it’s over."_

_“First of all, James Bond, you’re going to start a fire.” Juno leaned forward to flip off the faulty air vent. As he reached around Ransom’s shoulder for the switch, the thief smirked down at him, and he realized just how close they now were. Furiously blushing, he yanked his arm back._

_“And second of all, the apartment isn’t bugged. Unless you count the spiders, and I don’t think they care about your little mutiny.”_

_"Interesting. So this is yours then?" He held up a tiny, almost undetectable mechanism with a cut wire poking out. Juno couldn't help but stare. Had that really come from his own apartment? Had someone managed to slip past his defences?_

_Ransom’s shit-eating grin was somewhat diminished by the condensation on his glasses, but that didn't make it any less irritating._ _“There’s a lovely McDonald’s down the street. I do love their iced tea…”_

_“All right. Get out.” Ransom raised an eyebrow, stepping back. Juno, still shaken by the sight of the bug, paused to make sure his voice would come out even._

_“You’ve got one car ride. But you’re paying, and this better. Be. Good.” He emphasized each word by poking Ransom in the chest. “Or else.”_

_God Steel, could you come up with a lamer threat? 'Or else'?_ ~~_And_ ~~_~~what did he even put in that cologne?~~ _

_“Splendid! Have a wonderful shower, we’ll head out in twenty.” Ransom flounced out of the bathroom._

_Juno locked the door aggressively. He'd never wash out that scent. With a sigh, he flipped the water dial to cold._

“Nope, I’d say ‘blackmail’ about covers it.” Juno inches closer to the pay window. “Also, are you gonna start talking or what? You said yourself we’re under the gun, if your boss finds out what you’re planning, we’re sunk.”

“Correct.” Juno waits, but instead of launching into some grand explanation, Ransom pulls down the loose car visor and starts checking his eyeliner in the small mirror. Juno throws his hands in the air.

“Mind explaining why you made me drive thirty minutes out of town in complete silence, then? We passed at _least_ five McDonalds before this one.”

“I told you, I’m here to offer you a job.” 

“So you said. Why do you think I’m here in the first place? The market is severely limited right now." Also, Juno went through those papers for Rita, and he really, really needs a good excuse to accidentally drop them in the trash bin and light the whole thing on fire. "Trust me, getting in this car with you was _worst_ case scenario.”

At the pay window, Juno slides his card in the offered machine and is rewarded with a warm, heavenly bag. His stomach growls in response, and he realizes he's starving. 

So of course Ransom snatches the bag from his hands before he can open it. “Excellent.”

“Hey!”

Before his eyes, his passenger carefully unfolds the bag and withdraws a single napkin. No- no it’s not a napkin, it’s a card, a...picture? There’s writing on the back he can’t make out. “Whaaaaaaat is that- did you seduce the cashier when I wasn't looking?”

His roommate flips the picture so he can see it clearly. “Hardly. If I was trying to seduce someone, you'd know. I take it you’ve heard of the Egg of Puris?” Juno barely glances at the image, more concerned with the pimply teen at the take-out window who is apparently a secret agent.

“I- what- do you know that guy?!” Juno cranes his neck around but he’s too far forward to see in the window, and the car behind him honks obnoxiously. Juno flips them off.

Ransom, realizing his big reveal didn’t land, looks quite put out. “I have multiple contacts Juno, the origin isn’t important. The _content_ is what we're here for.”

Juno slowly sits back in his seat and pulls out of the parking lot. “Sure, sure. Whatever. Egg of Puris, treasure hunter’s wet dream. The most valuable of the surviving Venonian artifacts- if it actually exists. Nobody’s seen it in, oh, a few centuries or so.” 

Something tickles his memory, something Rita had warned him of when he took the job for Julian… “Probably because the anthropologist who published most existing Venonian research has been systematically scrubbing her work from the web. Miasma?”

“You’re familiar with my employer, then. Unfortunately, her work isn’t the only thing she’s been purging from the system. Quite a few of her former colleagues have also… disappeared.”

“Murder is a hell of a midlife crisis. You really think she's responsible?”

“Indeed.”

“So what’s she want from Engstrom so badly? Is that rock really worth killing over?”

“The Egg isn’t the end goal.” Ransom neatly folds the picture and tucks it into the pocket of his designer jacket. “A shadow organization calling themselves ‘Dark Matters’ has scheduled a trade for tomorrow. I have no idea what they stand to gain from acquiring a pretty relic, but word is there’s a military grade weapon in it for whoever delivers the artifact. I think we can both agree that neither Engstrom nor Miasma can be allowed to get their hands on this weapon.”

Juno considers this for a second. There’s missing information, gaps in their knowledge that seem downright dangerous to ignore.

“It just doesn’t make sense. What does an anthropologist want with a weapon like that? Power? Revenge? On who? The Egg might be the crowning jewel of her collection, but what do you do with a collection like that if you’re the only one who knows about it? Open a museum for one?” Ransom chuckles. 

“What?”

“It’s just nice to see you collecting clues. We’re going to make an excellent team, I think.”

 _You already know what you’re going to choose. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here_. _Otherwise, you would have sent me packing that first day._ The subtext is written all over Ransom’s smug face. It pushes Juno to hold out a bit longer.

“All right. Say we do get the diamond. How do I know you won’t just pass it over to Miasma as soon as we’re out?”

“Oh you, don’t.” Ransom doesn’t elaborate.

“...Seriously, that’s it?”

Ransom turns slightly, his gaze boring into Juno. His tone is light, but Juno has trouble breaking eye contact. “You’ll just have to trust me, Detective.”

Juno snorts and dips his head. “Right. Trust you.”

When Ransom leans in, his scent is almost overpowering. It wraps around Juno like a net. “Animosity would make family dinner very awkward, don’t you think?”

Swerving to avoid a pothole, Juno fixes his gaze firmly on the road ahead of him. “We are _not_ going to that.”

“I’ll let you break the news to Vespa.” 

Juno grimaces. “Something will get broken all right. How long do we have? To take down the big bad secret agents?” 

“Oh, until tomorrow at least.”

“So, we infiltrate the Oasis, convince Engstrom to give us a diamond we aren’t even supposed to know exists, and then spirit it away before your boss is any wiser. And we’ve got twenty-four hours.”

“Probably less, considering it’s already late afternoon.”

Juno sighs. “Sure, I didn’t have any other plans this weekend.”

___________

“I don’t even know why we’re going to this stupid dinner,” Juno grumbles, checking his phone for the fifth time. 

The schedule is tight. Engstrom doesn’t like his appointments to cross, so his bodyguard will be taking them up to the penthouse promptly at five. Then they have an hour. 

To do what exactly, Juno couldn’t say. All talk of Miasma ceased when they arrived back at the apartment, and Ransom certainly wasn’t helping. 

_“So now what, we hold hands and skip up to Engstrom’s suite to sweet talk him out of a diamond?”_

_“I think it’s cute that you want to hold hands, Juno, but not very practical-”_

_“That_ would _be your takeaway.”_

Family dinner at six seems like a stretch, especially since, as Juno pointed out earlier, _Engstrom’s going to see straight through us and we’ll be dead before they’ve set the table._

Ransom had just laughed and swanned off to wait in the sweltering heat outside the liquor store. (He’s suspiciously determined to make a good impression on the neighbors, even though Juno’s certain Vespa would rather skewer than befriend him.) He was supposed to be back in thirty minutes. 

It’s been almost two hours. Meanwhile, Juno is eying the new suit that sells his persona as Duke’s partner. It’s flowery and stiff, and just looking at it makes him miss the familiar wear of his trench coat. Apparently, the last time Ransom ran into the retired criminal, he was using the persona 'Duke Rose'. He’s slipped back into character to avoid rousing the paranoid man’s suspicions, and expects Juno to play his part. 

Juno’s pretty sure it's just an excuse to get him dressed up. With the Oasis closed due to the pandemic, Engstrom is hosting private meetings in his suite with his wealthiest long-time customers. Juno got them the appointment, and as far as he can tell his only remaining job is to stand by Peter and look pretty. He pulls a face at the expensive fabric as his phone rings. 

Juno jabs the answer button impatiently. “Where the hell are you, Ransom?”

“Don’t panic, Valencia is on her way to pick you up. I’ll be along shortly. Let’s make a good impression, shall we dear?” These last few words are accompanied by a heavy banging on the door. Juno’s eyes widen. He starts frantically tugging on the slim-fitting trousers.

“Ransom? She’s here _right now_.” 

“Red or white?” Juno frantically searches the room, trying to figure out how either color relates to his impending doom.

“...huh?”

“I completely forgot to ask Buddy about the menu. Do you think this is more of a red wine or a white wine dinner?” Juno barely stops himself from hanging up.

“ _So help me Ransom_ I’m stuffing myself in your fucking suit, Engstrom’s bodyguard is about to break down the door to escort me to cards with her criminal overlord boss, and you’re asking what liquor you should bring to family dinner?!”

Juno’s breathing heavy, one-handedly fumbling with what seems like an endless row of buttons. There’s another knock on the door, this one brutal. 

“Mmm…” 

Juno shifts from one foot to the other impatiently. “ _What?_ ” 

“Yes, I think I’ll go with the red. Thank you very much, Juno, see you soon.” The line goes dead. 

Just as Juno’s considering throwing his phone at a wall, it buzzes with a text.

_Oh, and don’t forget to check the pocket. Sorry I didn’t have time to propose ;)_

Juno reaches into the breast pocket to find a beautifully embroidered mask and a simple gold… wedding ring? He stares.

“What.”

“You know, Engstrom used to cut a finger off for every minute his contacts were late. Just saying,” Valencia muses from outside the door.

Juno straightens his jacket and takes a breath. He’s patient. You have to be when most of your job is waiting for nothing much to happen. Digging through trash for weeks on end and finding nothing but spoiled food. Planting bait for a car thief and then memorizing the cracks in the brick wall behind it. Juno knows how to be patient. 

But Ransom is like getting on the elevator at the end of a long day, and there’s a kid in there pressing every button just to see them light up.

Juno’s lighting up like a goddamn Christmas tree.

  
 _For better or worse._ He jams the wedding ring on his finger and opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling a little iffy on this one, maybe because the Rita scenes got pushed to next chapter when I split it. Everything feels worse without Rita. But! That means criminal shenanigans, family dinner, and fluff to look forward to next time :)


End file.
